


In A Town So Small There's No Escaping You

by Bonymaloney (orphan_account)



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Choking, Even by my standards this is PWP, Fantasizing, Fantasy Sex, Hatepining, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, That's a word now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: On opposite sides of town, on opposite sides of the karma divide, but Sportacus and Robbie can't stop thinking about each other, and secretly, they don't really want to.





	1. Robbie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robbie is hatepining for Sportacus so his fantasies, while consensual, are quite rough. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea please feel free to skip to chapter two where Sporty is much sweeter.

Robbie couldn't sleep. 

It was hardly an unusual state of affairs, but for once the cause of the problem wasn't noise, or hunger, or the heat. Although he certainly was hot. His groin ached, his cock felt heavy, swaying with every step as he tried to pace the frustration away. He wasn't sure what time it was, although that was barely relevant. 

His skin felt too tight, too sensitive, and he was overheating even in just his loose silk pyjamas. The cool of the stone floor was soothing on his feet, as was the glass of cool creamy milkshake pressed against his face, but it wasn't enough. He was craving stimulation, and there was only one man that could provide it, but he was above the clouds, far away and out of Robbie's grasp. 

It was humiliating, in a way, for a villain to be so fixated on such a paragon, a paladin, a god damn avatar of all that was righteous and good in the world, and Robbie tried to put the elf out of his mind. But he'd never been much good at resisting temptation, and hell, he was horny. 

And if he had Sportafuck down here, he could make him be so very very bad...

Robbie sighed and shrugged off his robe. He assembled a few necessities; lube and tissues and his favourite vibrator, and arranged them in easy reach of his recliner. The glass was placed where he wasn't going to knock it over, and then he settled and allowed himself to spread out and relax. Comfort, as always, was key. 

He eased his pants down to his knees, spread his legs, gently lifted and cupped his half-hard cock and balls with one hand as he uncapped the lube with the other. Where to begin?

He'd caught Sportacus, that was where. The elf was crouching on the floor, wide eyed, chest heaving, and Robbie could see little rivulets of sweat running down from his hairline, across his sculpted chest. He'd been running from Robbie, but it did him no good, and he was in the lair now. 

Robbie began to stroke his rapidly stiffening cock as he pictured the look of wide-eyed confusion on Sportacus' face, imagining himself standing over him. He was fairly proud of his cock, it was certainly proportional to his height, and he liked how dark and swollen the end got. In his mind, Sportacus couldn't take his eyes from it. Sportacus smelled of musk and grass stains, and it made his mouth water. 

"Look at you, Sportasweat. You're _filthy_."

"S-sorry, Robbie..."

Robbie shook his head. "I'm going to have to clean you up. Take off your clothes, you dirty, dirty boy..."

Robbie bit his lip and began to jerk himself more quickly, his free hand toying with his nipples at the thought of Sportacus struggling out of his uniform, an endearing flush on his face as he tried and failed to conceal the spectacular erection jutting from his sky blue, skin tight shorts. He imagined pushing him forward, bending him over a workbench, and letting himself go to town. 

His mouth lolled open and he licked his own hand, pretending it was his mouth on Sportacus, lapping at his throat and the nape of his neck. Biting at his sensitive ears, pinching his nipples until he whimpered and moaned, then soothing them with his tongue only to bite down again. Pleasure and pain, all according to Robbie's design. And Robbie could lick the sweat from his armpits, his balls and the small of his back, every part of him so exposed and vulnerable. 

Robbie would bite down on an irresistibly round ass cheek, eliciting a howl of protest. His ass was so thick and firm, Robbie couldn't resist a good hard pinch before spreading the cheeks apart - no, imagine _Sportacus_ holding them apart, trembling with need and spreading himself wide open for Robbie's pleasure. 

Robbie was close, so close, and he fumbled desperately for his toy, pressing it against the length of his shaft with both hands and pumping furiously, hips arching forward. Too excited to settle on a single image, he pictured Sportacus, on his knees with Robbie's cock down his throat... with a plug in his ass and tears on his cheeks as he was forced to come... on his hands and knees with Robbie pounding him, pulling back as he came so that his creamy white cum oozed out of the elf's tender gaping hole...

With a cry that was equal parts ecstacy, hatred and yearning, Robbie came, plastering his belly and thighs. Catching his breath, he licked thoughtfully at his fingers, before grimacing at the bitter taste and deciding to drink the milkshake instead. He felt blank and empty, and tired enough to sleep once he cleaned himself up. 

He would have to get Sportacus to leave town soon, he thought numbly to himself. Tormenting yourself with thoughts of what you could never have was exhausting.


	2. Sportacus

Sportacus hoped Robbie was sleeping. 

It was only 7.30 pm, so that was probably a little optimistic, he reflected. At least he hoped Robbie was comfortable, and remembering to eat. 

With a wistful little shake of his head he put the villain out of his mind. It had been a good day. He'd hiked in the woods with the kids, all his favourite sports candy was in season, and he was fresh from the shower. There was something missing though, something he wanted. It wasn't the desperate craving of mating season, but nonetheless there was a flipping sensation in his belly, a soft ache in his groin. 

Well why not. It wasn't quite time for bed, and a slightly-above-average hero deserved a treat once in a while. "Bed," he said softly. 

Sportacus removed his uniform carefully, treating the crystal with the respect it deserved, and lay naked on the bed. He breathed in and out, enjoying the cool air on his skin, feeling himself beginning to stiffen in anticipation. 

Tucking one hand behind his head, he stroked his belly, show and sensuous, gradually working his way up to his chest. His nipples weren't hugely sensitive, but he enjoyed the way they went hard, like little pebbles, and he poked and pinched at them gently. Finally, he stroked his lower lip then pushed his forefingers into his mouth, licking and sucking, nipping with his sharp teeth. 

With the slippery wet fingers he cautiously stroked his ear, letting out a whimper of pleasure as the exquisite sensation shot through him, straight to his groin. He gripped his ear more firmly, tracing the point and tugging at the lobe, his other hand grasping his cock and beginning to stroke, stroke, stroke...

Slow down, he chided himself. For once, this isn't a race. 

He returned both hands to his torso, stroking and smoothing, imagining his lover's affection, tender caresses, teasing fingers running along his clavicles, ribs, the little dips between his muscles. 

"Oh," he moaned, but very quietly. "Oh. Oh _yes_ , oh _Rob-_ "

He had to stop himself. It wasn't right, thinking of a villain that way, especially one who seemed to dislike him so. 

Sportacus pressed one hand over his mouth, stifling his noise while his other hand returned to his cock with renewed vigour. It was exciting, the heat and the pressure that meant he couldn't quite breathe properly, and he imagined strong hands pinning him to the bed. He let his hand slide lower, light pressure on the front of his throat and then gripping. At the sensation of choking his cock bounced and his belly clenched, and he felt the sudden urge to be filled. 

"Drawer," and the discreet container where he kept condoms, lubricant and his little collection of sex toys, popped open. All you needed to be safe and fun. He grabbed a thick, smooth dildo and a bottle of lube. Again, he forced himself to be slow and thorough as he stretched himself, whining under his breath with eagerness. Preparation was everything. 

He went up onto his knees and reached behind him, easing the toy forward, aware he was sweating as he took every inch. Pictured eyes on him, appreciative eyes watching his chest heave as he bit his lip and forced himself to relax ever further. "Good boy," he murmured to himself. "That's very good."

Sportacus let himself rest for a moment then set up a slow pace, relishing the fullness and the burn as he rode, one hand supporting the flared base of he dildo as the other went back to his ear. He leaned back, showing off to his imaginary lover; his balance, the size of his chest, the tautness of his abs and thighs; objectified and adored. 

He pictured a delighted face, and it was Robbie, who was he kidding, it was Robbie, beautiful eyes half closed, pale skin flushed as his face contorted in ecstasy, and Sportacus pushed himself as hard as he could go, jerking his cock desperately as he cried out. 

_"Just do it, just mate with me, you villain, you troublemaker..."_

He groaned as he shot into his hand. Not much, barely a palmful, but that was normal when he wasn't in heat. Then, it would be gallons of the stuff, he thought ruefully. 

He cleaned himself and his sex toy throughly off, then pulled on a soft tshirt and a pair of leggings and slipped into bed. Shouting out like that was embarrassing, but he was 99 percent certain it had been in Elvish. If anyone overheard, he could say... he could say he was trying to learn a song. Everyone knew Sportacus couldn't sing. 

8.08, and he felt relaxed and blissful. His eyelids grew heavy, and he slipped off to sleep, to visions of grey eyes and big clever hands.


End file.
